Turning the Stone

by S. L. Perrine

  When she saw her schoolbag sitting on her bed she sighed. If only she could go back to school. To finish her education and move away.

  The phone on her night stand started to ring. She plopped herself across her bed, rolled to her side and pick the receiver up, moving to lay on her back.

  “Hello?”

  “Elle? What happened? Did you find anything?”

  “Chester chetto, no I didn’t find anything.”

  “Don’t call me that. Why didn’t you come back?”

  “I was already this far, why should I walk all the way back?”

  “Fine. Thanks for looking.”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  The other line clicked, the call ended, but Elle could hear someone speaking low on the line.

  “Hello?” The whispers turned into a crackle, and Elle squinted at the phone. The crease between her brows deepened. “Stop bull shitting with me, who’s there?”

  She slammed the receiver down on the base and laid back on her bed letting her forearm rest across her forehead. A knock at the door made her jump up. She moved on the far side of the bed as the door began opening.

  “Elle, you in here?” The blonde honey colored hair of her mother entered the room first. It was frizzy and unkempt. She wore an over-sized black sweater that ended at her knees over a pair of gray sweats and a white t-shirt that belonged to her father. It was her usual outfit for all the days following her brother’s funeral. The long sweater made her already short stature seem childlike.

  Rebecca’s messy appearance had become the cursor of how their entire lives had become. The reason why Elle made her way from the front door to her bedroom. If she had ventured downstairs, she’d find the house in the same amount of disarray.

  “Yes, Mom. Gees. You scared the living crap outta me.”

  “Elle, I wish you wouldn’t speak that way. I just came up to tell you dinner is almost ready.”

  “Thanks, but I already ate.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, maybe we can have breakfast together.”

  Elle relaxed her stance, and moved her bag off her bed, setting it to the floor. “Sorry. They’ll need me at the Crawford’s tomorrow. Early.”

  Her mother lowered her eyes to the floor and began turning to leave. “Oh, okay. Maybe you can come home a bit earlier tomorrow. We can all have dinner together.” She looked up, a smile moved to her mouth and traveled to her eyes. “It’s your father’s day off tomorrow. He should be home. Won’t that be nice? All four of us having dinner together, like a family. Like we used to.”

  “Three.”

  “What?”

  “Three of us. There are only three.”

  “Three. Right. I said three. The three of us will have dinner. Tomorrow. Make sure you come home.” She headed for the door, placed a hand on the knob, looked back for just a moment before adding, “And don’t eat. Bring your appetite. I’ll make your favorite. Lasagna.” Then she quickly scurried out of the room. Closing the door behind her.

  Elle looked in the mirror, moved her hands against her hair to make sure it was neatly combed back in its ponytail still. “That’s Daniel’s favorite.” She pulled the front of her shirt down and smoothed out the fabric against her, and let out a long sigh.

  Chapter XXII

  Barnaby sat at the kitchen table. His father sat in his rocker by the fire place, their family beagle lay on his lap. He and Cinnabar started working on the old man from the moment they left Gwen and Silas at the Blackwood’s. Not understanding what their grandmother had to do with the powers Gwen’s child had, they knew based on Alistair’s behavior that he knew exactly what she had to do with it.

  From the moment they walked in the door of the farmhouse Alistair sat with the small pup. Poking at the fire he’d built in the hearth, but avoiding all of their questions. So, Barnaby went to the source himself.

  Isabella moved slowly. Sabina helping her with a blanket and a shawl. The early summer nights were still cool. However, even in the ninety-degree heat, their mother seemed to always be cold. She sat down at the table and Sabina helped cover her legs with the blanket.

  “Mom, wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the chair?” She had a matching rocker next to the hearth.

  “I will be. This chair. That’s why I sat here.” She waved a hand at Barnaby dismissively. “Now, what is all this mention of my mother?”

  “We were attacked today. Well, Gwen really. She was threatened.”

  “Why did no one tell me?”

  “They’re telling you now,” Alistair said without looking away from the pup in his lap.

  “Hmph.”

  “Mom, something happened. Gwen is fine, but she regressed. Maybe because she tapped into the baby’s powers.”

  “She did what?”

  “She collapsed and regressed out of herself. Ophelia tried to communicate with her, but it wasn’t Gwen she was able to speak with. When she asked what happened to Gwen, the person inside her mind told her Margaret told her Gwen would use too much. That it would end up hurting her, or something.” When Barnaby stopped to take a breath, Cinnabar chimed in.

  “We tried asking Pop, but he got all quiet and just up and left without even making sure Gwenie was okay.”

  Sabina and Isabella glared at the old man, but he never looked up. “Your father doesn’t like any topic that has to do with my mother.”

  “Why is that?” Barnaby asked.

  “Cause, she was bat-shit crazy. That’s why,” Alistair added.

  “Nonsense. My mother was as lucid as I am right now.”

  “Well, then maybe we should get you one of those senile nurses,” Alistair tried to joke with his wife, but she just glared at him harder than before.

  “You know damn well she was fine.” Isabella motioned for Sabina to bring her a cup of tea. “She just loved a good tale.”

  “Ha. A good tale? The woman thought she was Seraphina.”

  Sabina’s eyes snapped up to her father. “She was Seraphina. I was with her when she put the curse back in the ring.”

  “Oh darling, you only think you were with her. My mother was not Seraphina. She studied Seraphina so much so, that she felt a sort of kinship to her. She did a spell to take on the magic in the ring, but it was too much for her. She lost herself. Catatonic for weeks. I was beside myself. She’d tried it once before, but it wouldn’t open. That’s probably what Gwen’s child meant. Margaret was probably just trying to warn her. The gifts in that ring are close to what that baby will have. All the powers of Silas and Gwen.” She took a big gulp of air as if she couldn’t breathe, and Sabina moved to her side with her tea.

  “Mother? Are you ok?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  “Your mother was a wackadoo. She studied Seraphina, alright, but she also worked magic to blend them together. It was as if they were the same person. She said Seraphina was haunting her.” Alistair put the animal on the floor and stood. “I won’t tell Gwen any of that. I don’t want it in her head to try it.”

  “You honestly think Gwen would try something like that?” Cinnabar studied a croissant before plunging it into his mouth.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out,” Alistair said before leaving through the back door.

  “So, what do we do about Gwen now?” Barnaby asked.

  Isabella took a sip of her tea, placed the cup on the table and slid her thumb along the gold embellishments on its surface. “I suppose the only thing we can do. An energy ritual. We also have to bless the baby and mother soon. Sabina, would you mind helping me plan the party?”

  “Sure, Mother. Just tell me what you need.”

  “Good. I think to start we need to check the tools cabinet. See what we need to restock.” She looked at the mug that boasted, World’s Greatest Mom. A gift to her for Mother’s Day when her children were small. “Votive candles; one blue, five white, and a white pillar. Then some blue sand. I think the rest is in there.”

  “Ok, I’ll make a list
.” Sabina pulled her latest notebook from the counter and opened to a new page. She scribbled a few things, checked the cabinets for the other ingredients and scribbled again. “Barnaby, can you take me to the store? I’ll get a pack of invitations as well.”

  “Sounds good, dear.” Isabella lifted her blanket from her lap and left it where it lay as she moved from the room. Cinnabar moved behind her to offer her a steady hand. “Thank you. I just feel a little under the weather today.”

  The treatments she was having were making her less and less herself. She contemplated asking Gwen to heal her, but now that she had this complication with the baby’s powers, she wouldn’t. She would hold off until the child was born.

  Cinnabar left her in her chaise lounge in the sun room. She enjoyed looking outside, but couldn’t yet leave the house. The sun beat on her thin skin. She grew tired from the movements around the house and sunk into her chair. She pulled the afghan she always had there around her shoulders and closed her eyes in the sunlight.

  Gwen…she could hear Gwen and Silas. They sat next to her chair. Speaking to her even though she was asleep. They needed to tell her something important. Something was going to happen to them. To her. The child. Her granddaughter. Isabella tried to lift her lids, but she couldn’t.

  “Mom, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to wake up. I need you to know someone is going to try to hurt us. To hurt Elyse.”

  Elyse. That must be the name of the baby. Yes, Gwen told her. Elyse Margaret Crawford. Named after both of her grandmothers.

  “Mom?”

  “Isabella? I’m sorry, honey, she’s just so weak. She needs her sleep.”

  “I know, but Silas, I wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Darling it’s not goodbye. Not really. We will return, and when we do you will have a lifetime to talk.”

  Isabella lifted her lids as Silas and Gwen slipped from the sunroom. She watched as Sabina entered in their place. She held her afghan in her hands and draped it over her shoulders.

  “Did you speak with them?”

  Isabella could only shake her head. Her mouth was dry, and her throat felt as if it were on fire.

  “Then they didn’t tell you what is happening?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Someone is trying to kill them. Well, not really. They think someone is trying to kill them. Little do they know, it’s not nearly as nice as all that.”

  Isabella woke with a start and winced in pain at the movement. She’d been dreaming. Something struck her in her dream. That could not have been good. She’d never been able to connect with her gifts. Not since she renounced herself as the next high priestess of her family. So, the question was, could that have just been a dream, or was it a vision?

  Chapter XXIII

  A blessing and an energy ritual for her pregnant sister. Of course, why hadn’t she thought of that? Every mother-to-be enjoyed baby showers. Her sister couldn’t have been much different. Although, if you talked to Gwen, she never said much about the little brat in her gut. Damn, growing a human must take a lot of energy. Leaving none left for her to be excited.

  Sabina entered the nearest shop which prided itself on being a shop of Wiccan fundamentals. The only reason she chose a shop nearby, was she didn’t want to leave her mother for too long while she was ill, or else Sabina would have traveled out of town for a real witch’s supply store. As it was, she would be able to find the few odds and ends in the small souvenir shop.

  She was armed with her list and a mental note that popped in her head as she traveled. She would go to the next block over and look at some of the baby stuff. She grabbed a bag of lavender and a vial of flax seed oil. Then the candles she would need placing them all on the counter. Then she grabbed the incense and a small red candle, which were not on her list. She remembered her mother’s idea of using the blue sand, but instead, Sabina grabbed a bottle of pink, since they knew it was a girl. She also wanted to make it as specific as possible. Knowing she was a super powered baby meant she needed to be blessed in a way that would allow her gifts to manifest to their fullest ability.

  Once she had everything, she let the nasally girl at the counter ring her out. She was the typical believing non-witch she’d ever seen. The girl had poorly dyed black hair that was blonde at the roots. Her purple nail polish was about three weeks over due for a change. It was chipped at the tip and the cuticle, leaving a small amount of color just in the middle of each nail bed. Her black lipstick and black eyeliner made Sabina want to shake her a bit for trying to act the part without any real knowledge of why they dressed the way they did.

  Usually, her entering the store meant a strongly worded battle. One her mother or father would have been nearby to extinguish. Though the girl had no real idea why Sabina felt the way she did.

  Most humans that pretended to know what it was like to be a witch or pretended to be a witch all dressed a like. Sabina couldn’t be bothered to argue with the girl then, and as she walked from the store she thought she saw the girl sigh a bit of relief.

  Instead of goading her, Sabina simply turned around and walked right back in the store. She flicked her wrist in the air. The girl’s hand flew to her neck and clawed her skin. Her trachea was being restricted. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe, and just when Sabina thought the girl’s eyes would bulge from her head, she released her.

  “Stop pretending you know what a witch is. You have no power. Look at me.”

  The girl did. Her hands still at her throat, but with wide eyes, she looked at Sabina. Her pixie hair was spiked. Her jeans had holes in them, her spandex shirt was maroon with spaghetti thin straps, and she wore a light nude lip color. “Do I look like you? No. I don’t. You don’t have to do that to yourself. It’s all I’ve been trying to say.”

  She left the store and the girl behind the counter quickly pushed the door shut behind her. Sabina heard the deadbolt engage, and she laughed. Instead of unlocking it and showing her talents further, she walked the block away to the light and airy storefront with all the pink and blue items on display in the window.

  Sabina looked at a bouncing chair, swings, and walkers, then to the car seats, cribs and bassinets, but settled on a pink blanket that had a small patch sewn into the corner. It was of a bunny rabbit; pink, fuzzy, and had rainbow colored polka dots in the ears. Sabina stuffed it into the bag with the items for the belly blessing once she paid the store owner and left, anxious to get back to her mother’s side.

  Once home she arranged all the items on the kitchen counter, and brought the blanket to her mother. Isabella was napping quietly on her chair in the sun room. Sabina moved to place the blanket under her arm, but when she moved it she saw her mother clutching a framed photograph of her sister.

  Sabina grabbed the frame and positioned the blanket in its place. She studied the picture of her sister. Her bright white smile, long beautiful hair, and slightly freckled complexion. That was the sister she knew once. The sister who shared a room with her, and told her stories of how they would rule the world as the Crawford Witches. Until she’d gotten the gifts all to herself. Sabina soon realized Gwen didn’t mean any of it. She’d lost sight of their plans once Silas was in the picture.

  Sabina had a plan. One that ensured she would never be alone. Her sister had Silas, her mother didn’t want to be a witch. So, she needed the one person back who did want to be with her, and she would use the belly blessing to do it.

  Chapter XXIV

  Seraphina

  September 12, 1914

  Life is hard. Things I thought I once wanted are no longer desirable. I have witnessed too many deaths. Too much pain and sorrow. I sit here and write this now even as my dear friend's son, Chadwick Sigmis is lowered into the ground. Marlin cries for his father. He is just so little, so young not to have a father to grow with. Life is hard. While all those I knew are now gone. Magnus, my dear Magnus has left me. My love came back to me as a broken man, but he too is now gone. Now I watch on as th
eir children all perish. How?

  How shall I continue this way? How can I?

  I believe I now know why the Council secludes themselves away in a mountain. All of them receive the curse at one point or another. They never have to watch those they love die.

  January 1938

  I’ve just witnessed a blessed event. The birth of a child is always an amazing thing to behold. It means life renewed. It means the cycle will continue. Oh, how I wonder what this little one will be like. Will he be like Magnus, the grandfather he will never get to know, or like Chadwick, the one he was named for? Chadwick Crain. A name that has brought the Sigmis and Crain families together. Blessed be.

  May 3, 1940

  Marlin has had a son. The cycle still moves on. Silas Sigmis. Oh, how he looks like Seth. We can only hope the belly blessing has done him well. I still cannot pinpoint when Seth had created such a dark light to follow his family.

  June 12, 1942

  I have given up the gifts I stole. They are safely back in the ring. I want to live. I want to experience birth and life. I want to love again, have children and continue my line along with those of my friends. Life. I must celebrate life, for if not I think I will surely give in to the voices and go mad.

  May 4, 1944

  The miracles keep coming. I have vowed to follow the lines of life for both of my friends. I must keep a detailed record. I will not mourn those that pass, but instead, I will celebrate each birth as if it were of my own doing.

  Today Tristian Crain was born, but his mother didn’t make it. Yet, another curse I’ve not focused on. I need to find away. There just is not enough of me, not enough time to figure it all out. To save the lives of those that birth a Crain, or the minds of those born a Sigmis. When will this come to an end? I grow weary.

  November 11, 1947

  I have given birth to a girl and lost my husband all in the same day. He died of heart failure while racing to the hospital to be with us. I thought I was the older of us, but his body was frailer. Do I hold a curse of love as well? Will all the men who marry a Crawford come to the same fate? I dare not think of it.